


She Can't Cry He Can't Sing

by blackpurpleblack (orphan_account)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Homestuck - Freeform, Homestuck AU, Humanstuck, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-10 23:33:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/791452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/blackpurpleblack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short story featuring Kurloz and Meulin because there isn't enough fiction of them written. Au where Kurloz is a member of a gang and sad shit happens. Working out writer's block with this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Can't Cry He Can't Sing

On certain clear summer nights the rotating stars will capture and hold the attention of lovers. They steal moments in the sweet summer grass of dim lit parks always keeping a watchful eye out for cops who’ll break up their fun. Through the abandoned streets they hold hands and whisper to each other about nothing in particular. Neither have nothing to do but defy sleep to spend time with each other and have until the early hours of dawn to sneak back into their separate beds. 

He’s wearing all black, the only color on him is the purple bandana tied around his right arm showing his allegiance to a local gang. She doesn’t argue with him about his involvement with the Mirthful Messiahs because his family has deep blood ties to it. Not that she doesn’t worry about him, she’s seen the blood on his skin after scuffles and knows the exact kind of danger he is in.

He offers her the hoodie off his back and she smiles as she declines. She’s not cold and the temperature is comfortable against her bare skin. The air against her skin is a series of small kisses against her bare skin. She’s wearing an earthy green tank top with a frilly black skirt over top fishnets and knee high shit kicking combat boots. Against the night sky her long black hair only shimmers and shines when they pass streetlights. 

He surprises her with kisses as they wander aimlessly throughout the city avoiding the alcoholics as they stumble out of the bars. As they turn into an alleyway she removes her hand from his and pulls his face down to meet hers. He counts her heart beats and runs a hand down her back just taking in everything he can sensually about her. He loves the way she has to tilt her face up slightly to meet his lips. He loves it when she bites his lower lip as they part wearing that grin that sends shivers down his spine.

“Meulin Leijon, I think I love you.” He pulls her into an embrace as he whispers this. 

The night is still around them and sound of her soft chuckling breaks the pace of silence.

“Kurloz Makara you better love me.” She responds. She flicks his nose before she breaks away to skip ahead. 

“I do love you!” Kurloz says. His longer legs makes it too easy to catch up after her and in no time at all he has her hand in his again. She cannot help but smile, her young heart is on fire.

“Kurloz Makara loves me!” she yells into the night. A dog barks in response.

Their combined laughter echoes against the apartment buildings. Feeling quite ridiculous, Meulin shushes Kurloz until the night is silent again. No need to wake an angry old motherfucker up. They’ve been together for five years and she still finds her heart flutter when he smiles at her.  
A can clatters down the alleyway behind them and they both freeze. Instinctively Kurloz takes two steps towards the sound, placing his body in front of hers. Meulin doesn’t let go of his hand, refusing to let him go any further. The sound of drunk laughter echoes towards them and shadows grow as five men come into view.

In that exact moment, Kurloz’s heart dies. Each of them have orange splashed on their bodies, the color of the rival gang, the Caval Segadores. They shouldn’t be this far into the Messiahs territory and the only reason they would have is to cause as much damage they could to those wearing purple. 

“What the fuck do we have here?” A Segadore calls. He’s wearing a sick bright orange jacket and is swinging a bat with around. 

“One lonely clown and his freakette.” Another responds. A harsh laughter builds up around them and Kurloz clenches his fists. They are not close enough that they could grab him or Meulin but the Segadores are closing the distance. 

He turns to her ignoring the first rule of the game, never show your back to the enemy. She’s wide eyed and trying to hide the fact she’s trembling. A soft sort of mixture of pity and sadness fills his heart and all he wants to do is run with her from this. But he is a Messiah, and there is no filtering the purple out of his blood.

“You run when I say. Get to Gamzee or Gabhar. Don’t look back.” He speaks quickly, there really is no time to spare in this situation. 

“Don’t you turn your back on us clown.” 

“Motherfucker got some nerve.” 

“More like the need for a good beating.”

“Run Meulin!”

He caught three in combat and despite his efforts two slip past him to chase down his girl. He curses his arrogance for not carrying anything but a small pocket knife. Even with his long reach and experience he can’t hold them off, they’ve got the bigger stick. 

When he falls, he falls hard. They’re on top of him in seconds. Fists, bat and knife find their way against his flesh. They’ve got him by his hair and slamming his head into the ground.  
The world is a flash of pain and vertigo but the hope of Meulin’s escape is keeping his heart alive. 

A scream explodes into the night and all of his blood leaves his body.  
He should have known better. 

They’ve got him up on his feet, dragging him by his hair.

She’s pinned to a chain linked fence and there is blood on her face.

Her eyes are wet with tears and he’s screaming obscenities at the Segadores. 

This prompts nothing but more violence. They’ve got him pinned to the concrete ground with a knife to his throat.

“Scream anymore lover boy and she’ll get nothing but pain.” A Segadore whispers into his ear. 

The Segadore with the bat smiles a crocodile smile and points it towards him.

“If I hear one motherfucking word, the tiniest of pleas from your clown cock sucking mouth she’ll get it all.” He promises.

“Kurloz.” She calls. He can’t throw the fat ass off his back, he can’t do anything to save her from the pain she is about to receive. The Messiah complies with the order given and keeps his mouth shut as the first blow connects with her ribs. 

He can’t stand it being so helpless with steel against his throat. 

She tries to stand strong but the blows to her face and ribs are becoming too much. 

He bites into his lower lip as her cries ring out. He puts all of his frustration into his jaw that his lip begins to bleed.

The sick fuck on his back is whispering the worst perversions into his ears and the rest of the Caval Segadores are laughing coyote laughter. 

When she is thrown against the ground he begins to bite his tongue. Blood pulls in his mouth and rage fills his heart. The sound of breaking bones and quiet whimpers drives him over the edge. Red slowly descends over his eyes and he loses himself. 

He wakes with blood on his hands. The gray hours of dawn are beginning to play with the horizon and he is all spent. Tremors rack his body and he feels like he is going to vomit.

When he sees Meulin he does. 

“Meulin.” he tries to call. His tongue is swollen, and the iron taste of blood is too much.  
She still has a pulse when reaches her. He’s calling her name over and over again but there is no response. 

There’s too much blood and her eyes are shut. 

Against the screaming of his spent muscles he picks her up, cradling her to his chest and begins the long walk to the hospital.

When dawn breaks there is nothing left of what had occurred in the alleyway but blood and a single purple bandana.


End file.
